Thicker Than Water
by a.lakewood
Summary: SPN/TrueBlood. Dean and Sam find themselves looking for Jo in Louisiana and Dean ends up at Fangtasia with Jason Stackhouse. SLASH.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Thicker Than Water [1/2]  
Author: alakewood  
Warnings: General spoilers for _Supernatural_ up through mid-season 4, and _True Blood_ for season 1. **Will be SLASH.**  
Rating: PG-13 for this part.  
Word Count: 2400+  
Summary: Dean and Sam find themselves looking for Jo in Louisiana and Dean ends up at Fangtasia with Jason Stackhouse.  
Disclaimer: As always, I own nothing.

**oxoxo**

"I don't think I'll ever be able to get used to this," Dean said to Sam as he slowed the Impala down to a crawl as he passed Fangtasia – the vampire bar in Shreveport. Ever since the Devil's Gate opened, it seemed, a lot of vampires had gone 'mainstream.' And there were a hell of a lot more vampires than they had ever thought possible. Even Gordon would've been surprised.

But they were in Louisiana in search of a completely different beast altogether. A beast that went by the name of Jo Harvelle.

After everything with the raising of the witnesses, Dean and Sam and Bobby had tried to get in touch with every hunter they knew and every one was accounted for (alive or dead) except for one – Ellen hadn't heard from Jo in months, but now she was afraid that her daughter's lack of communication was something more than her typical rebellion.

So Ellen and Bobby had headed north to Minnesota, to the bar where Jo had last worked, while Sam and Dean headed south to talk to a few of Ellen's completely off-the-grid contacts in the freaking bayou.

The only thing Dean was looking forward to about the whole trip was the food. He and Jo hadn't spoken since he'd left her at the Sandpiper in Duluth damn near two years ago and he wasn't too keen on being the one to find her.

Dean shook his head, partly clearing his thoughts and partly in incredulity as he watched a group of scantily-dressed, college-aged girls hurry across the street in front of the Impala. "I don't understand why any sane human being would willingly get bit by one of those things. Or how they could have _sex_ with one. I don't care how hot some of those chicks are, I draw the line _way_ before necrophilia. _Or_, have you heard of those people that drink vampire blood to get high? What's the world coming to? Before you know it, it's gonna be perfectly acceptable for people to be ridden by demons." He glanced at Sam at that point, expecting his brother to agree, but Sam just looked uncomfortable. "What?"

"Ridden by demons how?"

Dean stared at Sam immediately understanding what he was implying. "You didn't." At Sam's chagrined expression, Dean groaned in frustration and disbelief. "I thought you of all people had higher - _much_ higher – standards than that."

"You were dead, Dean, and I was in a pretty bad place. Ruby was there for me."

"I can't tell you how much I don't want to hear about this. _Ever._ And? That's _so_ not what I meant when I said '_ridden_.'"

**oxo**

"That's not disturbing at all," Dean said of the alligator skull that dangled from the ceiling and twisted in the breeze from the open doorway, casting strange oblong shadows up and down the walls as it spun and swung in the dim light of their hotel room. Dean approached the offending decoration and noticed the small bones attached to the line like some kind of morbid wind chime. "Hoodoo, voodoo, whatever the hell you want to call it – that shit's not right. This is the last time I let you pick the motel."

After that, Sam only listened half-heartedly to Dean's complaints as they half-assed settled in, finally paying attention when he heard Dean mention "beer at a _real_ bar. Hell, I'd even take one of those hillbilly, redneck, backwoods bars over that damn vamp bar."

"You aren't even the slightest bit curious?"

"Hell no. Why? Are you?"

Sam shrugged. "A little bit. Remember Lenore? She wasn't that bad."

"You really _are_ a freak! Jesus, Sammy."

"You're overreacting, Dean. Like _really_ overreacting. It's not like I'm saying I'd let one of them bite me." The expression on Dean's face at that said more than any words ever could.

"I need a beer."

**oxo**

Sam found Dean at the bar across the street a few hours later. He slid onto the stool beside his brother, gesturing to Dean's beer and holding two fingers up towards the bartender. "So I just found us a lead on Jo," he said, taking a swig from his bottle. "Talked to Ellen's contact Robichaud over at this hole-in-the-wall, strictly locals-only bar on the edge of town."

"They let you in?"

"I just mentioned that I was a friend of Ellen's and that I was looking for Jo and Robichaud came right over. He looked suspicious, sure, but I told him about the situation – as far as Ellen being worried about Jo after what happened to all those hunters. Robichaud said he'd found a few of his own friends in similar states."

"That was all it took? As low-lying as these guys are, he just turned over information about Jo to you?"

"There's a little more to it than that."

"Like?"

"That she's...kind of involved with a group of vampires."

"_Involved_ involved?" Dean asked, nearly choking on his beer.

"Robichaud couldn't be sure. Just knows that she's 'fallen in with the wrong crowd.'"

"No shit. Jo associating with vamps? She should know better than that." Dean finished off the last swallow of his beer. "Okay. So where is she?"

"He gave me an address but, if you don't mind...I'd kind of like to talk to her myself. I never really got the chance to apologize to her after...you know."

"You sure?" Dean could barely keep the relief out of his voice.

"Yeah."

"I guess. But...be careful, okay?"

"Dude, it's just Jo."

"Yeah, and now she's friends with _vampires_ so who knows how much she's changed."

Sam just nodded and emptied his bottle. "I'll see you in an hour or two then."

Not too long after Sam left, a guy – a kid, really – took the abandoned barstool next to Dean. He cast a sideways glance in Dean's direction. "Hey."

Dean nodded. "Hey." The kid was sweating, looked nervous. "You alright, man?"

"Huh? Oh, uh, yeah. Fine. Thanks."

"You ever been to that vamp bar across town? Fangtasia?" Dean asked.

The kid looked shifty. "Uh, no. Been thinkin' about maybe checkin' it out, though."

Dean nodded again and took a drink of his beer, then offered his hand. "Dean Winchester."

The kid hesitated before shaking it. "Jason Stackhouse."

"So, do you know any vampires?"

"Knew a few fang-bangers," Jason said, picking at the label on his beer bottle once it was set in front of him. "And my sister's kind of dating on – a vampire, I mean. But I don't think I've ever really met one. Not even this Bill guy Sookie's seeing." Jason shrugged. "What about you?"

"A few. But that was before all this 'mainstreaming' crap."

Jason looked surprised. "Really?" And it took a few more beers before Jason said, "You can come with, if you want. To Fangtasia. Check it out or whatever."

Dean could tell that Jason was apprehensive about going, but was determined to go just the same. Dean nodded. "Sure."

**oxo**

As Sam approached the building at the address Robichaud had given him, he saw a familiar blonde crossing the street ahead of him. "Jo!"

The girl stopped and turned. "Who's there?"

Sam left the shadow of the trees crowding over the sidewalk and entered the light from the street lamp outside what appeared to be a small art gallery. "It's Sam. Winchester."

Jo took a step back. "Sam?" She glanced from the gallery to the shadows behind Sam.

"I need to talk-" He was cut off when something _hard_ hit him from behind. It felt like a ton of bricks but was definitely in the shape of a man – a vampire, Sam guessed. "It's – it's okay, Jo. Ellen sent me."

Jo slowly walked over to where Sam was being held face-down against the sidewalk. "Why would she send you after me?"

Sam craned his head back to look at her. "I'm sure you heard about what happened to all those..." He glanced back at the man holding him, unsure as to whether or not he should continue. "To our _colleagues._"

"What do you mean?"

"All those people that died? About a week and a half ago? Robichaud said there were a few down here."

She stared at him skeptically before nodding to the vampire. "Let him go, Tony. What about it, Sam?"

Sam climbed up off the ground, rolling his shoulders. It was then that he noticed the dress Jo was wearing. "Where've you been?"

"With Tony and a few others at a private opening for his art exhibition," she gestured to the gallery. "Not that I need to explain myself to you, or anybody else for that matter."

"Art exhibition?"

"Tony's an artist. Now, quit trying to make smalltalk and tell me exactly why you're here."

"I told you, your mother sent me to check on you."

"Where's Dean?"

And it felt like that night in Duluth all over again. "I asked him to let me do this alone. I'm so sorry about what happened the last time I saw you."

Jo looked away as tears formed in her eyes. "Wasn't really you."

"But you didn't know that then."

"Doesn't matter. What did you need to tell me?"

Sam sighed. "Just call your mom. She's really worried about you."

"Then why didn't she come down here?"

"She headed up to Minnesota with Bobby to look for you. Me and Dean came down here."

Jo nodded. "Well, message received. You can go now."

"Can't we talk about...what happened?"

"No, Sam. I don't want to. I just want you to leave."

"Jo." Sam moved to take a step forward, but Tony was immediately blocking his path.

"I believe the lady told you to leave. So you best be leaving." Tony stared down at Sam with cold, dark eyes.

"I really am sorry, Jo," Sam said, heading back towards where the Impala was parked down the street.

"Yeah. Me, too." With Tony at her side, Jo watched as Sam walked away.

**oxo**

Dean and Jason approached the velvet-roped entrance to Fangtasia and had to wait in a short line with a bunch of black-clothed twenty- and thirty-somethings. The bouncer was a woman, which surprised Dean at first, but then he remembered: vampire bar – with the superhuman strength and speed the things possessed, it didn't matter whether the bouncer was a male or a female, they'd still be many times stronger than anybody that tried to mess with them.

More surprising, though, was when she looked at Dean and said, "ID?"

"Are you serious, lady? I haven't been carded in, like, nearly ten years." But he pulled his wallet out anyway, trying to recall which of his aliases he was that day.

Meanwhile, Jason showed her his driver's license. "Stackhouse?" she questioned. "You got a sister Sookie?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Dean handed his ID over to the woman. She glanced at the photo, the name, then at Dean. Her mouth quirked in a half-smile. "Pop culture references aren't lost on me." She fixed him with an intent stare. "What's your _real_ name?"

"Dean Winchester," he replied, even though that was _not_ the answer he'd been prepared to give. Her mind-control ability was much stealthier than Andy's had been.

She glanced between Dean and Jason. "Whatever your secrets are, there's no need to be ashamed of them here." She stepped aside to let them in before either of them had a chance to respond to her implication.

On the inside, Fangtasia looked like the typical goth bar, just a highly commercialized version. But the main room was much smaller than the exterior of the building let on, so Dean was certain that there were darker, sinister things going on in back rooms.

They couldn't have been inside for much more than half an hour before the female bouncer approached them. "Eric wishes to speak with you."

Dean and Jason shared a glance. "Who's Eric?" Dean asked.

She nodded towards a small stage just to the left of the bar where a man was seated comfortably in a throne-like chair. "Come."

Eric leaned forward when they stood in front of him. "Dean Winchester," he said, nearly in wonder. "The man behind the legend. I've heard rumors of you, but...I never thought I find you in my bar."

It felt as though every pair of eyes in their immediate vicinity was watching the scene unfold. "I wouldn't say there's a legend."

"Of _course_ there is. A mortal man, to Hell and back. _That's_ legendary."

Dean was aware of Jason's stare, of his curiosity at the comment.

"I must also say," Eric continued, "that, while I'm well aware of your life's mission, I am still honored by your presence in my humble establishment."

"Um, thank you?" Definitely not how Dean had imagined this pseudo-investigation to go.

"And you," Eric said, addressing Jason. "Jason Stackhouse. Are you as talented as your sister?"

"Uh, no. No, sir."

"What brings you here?"

Jason's nervousness was apparent. "I-uh-I."

"What's your purpose here?" Eric questioned again, his expression similar to that of the woman's when she'd asked Dean for his real name.

"I need V."

Eric eyed Dean with keen interest. "Perhaps something could be arranged."

"Sorry, I don't swing that way, buddy."

Jason laughed nervously and Eric stood from his chair. "Follow me." And neither man couldn't _not_ obey.

Eric's hold on Dean's mind was broken by the ringing of Dean's cell phone. Dean shook his head as his freewill returned to him. "Dude, I'd really appreciate if you wouldn't do that," he said as he dug his phone out of his pocket. "Hey, Sammy, I can't-"

Eric directed his stare at Dean again. "Your brother is with you?"

"Yes."

"You should invite him."

"Sam, I'm Fangtasia. You should join me." He paused as Sam spoke to him. "It's different than I expected. I'll see you in a few?"

"Both Winchester's under my roof. This should be an interesting night."

Dean slipped his phone back into his pocket and he and Jason continued to mindlessly follow Eric down the dark hallway.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Thicker Than Water [2/2]  
Author: alakewood  
Warnings: Spoilers for _Supernatural_ up through mid-season 4, and _True Blood_ for season 1. **SLASH.**  
Rating: R  
Word Count: ~1700  
Summary: Conclusion: Dean Winchester finds himself in a compromising situation with Jason Stackhouse; enter Sam Winchester – but does he help or hurt the situation?  
Disclaimer: As always, I own nothing.

**oxoxo**

"So it's V that you want?" Eric questioned Jason once he closed the door behind him. Dean stared at Jason blankly.

"Yes."

Eric brought his wrist to his mouth, punctured the flesh with the tip of one fang, and swiped his thumb across the droplet of blood that formed. His hand moved to cup Jason's jaw, Jason's mouth opening to accept the offering.

Jason closed his eyes as his tongue swirled around the thumb, making sure to consume every last trace of blood. His pupils were blown wide when his eyes opened again and his gaze settled on Dean. "You'll never experience anything like this. No high like it."

Eric collected the final drop of blood from his now-healed self-inflicted wound and held his hand out to Dean. He hesitated only slightly before closing his mouth over the thumb, suckling the blood from it, and the effect was almost instantaneous. The heightened sensitivity and awareness, his sudden arousal. His eyes locked on Jason's.

"Go on," Eric urged. He slowly lowered himself into the lone chair in the room and gestured to the couch across from it.

Jason made the first move, taking a step towards Dean, tilting his head to the side as he leaned in, his mouth tentatively closing over Dean's. There was still a slight tang of blood in Dean's mouth when his lips parted, allowing Jason's tongue to sweep across his own to taste. The heat between them flared as Dean backed them up to the couch and forced Jason down to the cushions; a fire consumed everything but need and desire as it burned through their veins.

Eric watched with heavy-lidded eyes as Jason pulled Dean's shirt off exposing a smooth expanse of muscled, lightly-freckled skin. _Don't be afraid,_ he thought to Dean. _Don't hold back._

Dean tugged open Jason's shirt, sending buttons flying and skittering across the floor. He went to quick work removing Jason's undershirt, pinning Jason's arms beneath him when both shirts became tangled just past his shoulders. Dean used the immobility to his advantage, sliding down Jason's body to kneel between his spread-open thighs.

"Yes," Jason begged breathlessly, arching his hips up off the couch.

Dean, slowly with shaking hands, unbuttoned Jason's jeans and pulled down the zipper and released Jason's hard cock from its denim confines. Dean curled his fingers around it, stroking and squeezing experimentally, eliciting a broken cry from the man beneath him. With eyes focused on the debauched expression on Jason's face, a thought he somehow knew wasn't his own entered his mind – more of an image, of him going down on Jason Stackhouse. But he couldn't deny the lust and the want to do just that. He faltered as he bent down, drawing the head of Jason's dick into his mouth, sucking gently.

Jason whined, bucking his hips up, trying to force Dean to take in more of his dick.

Eric turned away from the scene before him, staring at the door behind him out of the corner of his eye. A couple of seconds later, there was a knock on the door. "Let him in, Pam," he said, glancing back to Dean and Jason who were completely oblivious to anything but each other.

As the door opened, the first thing Sam noticed was a ceiling so high it was lost in the dimness of the room. A man stood from a chair, obscuring much of Sam's view of the couch behind him, but the sounds and scent of sex were unmistakable.

"Sam Winchester," Eric began, gaze appraising as it traveled up and down the the length of Sam's body. "I consider it an honor and a privilege to make your acquaintance."

Sam uncertainly reached for the hand that was offered and shook it. "Wish I could say the same. Where's Dean?" All Sam saw was the glint of the vampire's fangs before he was wrenched around, both hands restrained behind his back, teeth grazing the flesh of his neck just above his jugular.

"He's so easy to control. Doesn't really try to fight it."

Sam's gaze falls on the couch, where Dean's busy mouth made Jason writhe and whimper. He inhaled a sharp breath in shock, preparing to yell to his brother, but a hand clamped over his mouth.

"Ah ah ah," Eric admonished, tongue darting out to lick a stripe along the pulsing vein. "I know all about you – what you are. Any vampire worth his weight in blood knows of the Winchester brothers and what they're capable of. But only a few of us know your true worth. One of Azazel's chosen children," he sighed, pressing his nose against Sam's throat and breathing deeply. "Your blood is a very powerful thing. You want your brother back, you best play along. 'Cause Dean looks like he'd be a lot of fun to play with."

Sam couldn't tear his eyes away from the scene of his brother and the young man before him. Watched in horror as Dean started to lean back and reach for the fly of his jeans. "O-okay. Whatever you want. Just don't let him- don't let him do anything else."

"That's a good boy." Without warning or grandeur, Eric sank his fangs into the soft flesh of Sam's throat. He released Sam's hands and gently cradled the young man's head as he hungrily drank the heady cocktail that was Sam's blood.

Sam could feel himself weakening, felt the panic flare as he realized that the vampire wasn't going to let him go. "No. _Stop!_"

And everything did.

Eric released Sam, at the same time releasing Dean and Jason from his glamour. Dean went completely still for the briefest of moments before launching himself backwards off the couch, away from a suddenly confused Jason. Dean became aware of Sam's presence, the younger brother still being held in the awkward embrace of the vampire, blood trickling from the twin puncture marks on his throat. "The _fuck_?" He reached for his discarded shirt and jacket. As he stood, he felt the uncomfortable tightness of his erection in his jeans and the steady thrum of the drug in his system as his blood pressure elevated. "What the hell's going on, Sam?"

Even though he'd been weakened by the amount of blood Eric had taken from him, he was strong enough to use his power to hold the vampire at bay. "We're going. _Now,_ Dean. You'll leave us alone," he said to the vampire. "Any of your bloodsucking friends comes anywhere near us and you can bet your ass you'll _really_ be dead." He followed Dean out of the room, letting the door slam behind him, pressing a hand to his neck where the bite was already healing.

Dean pulled his shirt and jacket on as he strode down the hall. He shoved the door to the bar open, not looking to see if Sam was following. Shoving past vampire wannabes, he headed for the exit and taking a deep breath of cool-yet-humid air.

Sam was only a few moment behind Dean in reaching the Impala. "What the hell was _that_, Dean?"

"What the- what the hell was _what, Sam?_ I wasn't the one getting _bit_ by a _vampire_," he whispered harshly over the roof of the car.

"I wasn't the one with some guy's dick-"

"Don't even _say_ it. The bloodsucking bastard was _mind-controlling_ me. Just like Andy did. What's your excuse?"

Sam stayed silent, reaching for the handle of the passenger's side door and flinging the door open.

"Come on, Sam! I don't think you're susceptible to vamp mind control any more than you were to Andy or Ansem's."

Inside the Impala, Sam shook his head and waited until Dean had calmed down a little beside him. "He threatened to..._keep_ you. What he meant by that? I don't know."

Dean scoffed in disgust. "You think he would've...turned me?"

"I think he wanted to," Sam replied honestly.

Dean turned the key in the ignition, focused on the vibration of the engine in the wheel beneath his hands. "So you...you let him..."

"Yeah. It's what he wanted. You just came back, Dean. I wasn't- wasn't going to let him- I just wish I would've gotten there sooner."

"I shouldn't've been there at all. It's my fault."

"Dean."

"Really, Sam. Let's just...get the hell out of Dodge, huh?"

**oxo**

Jason Stackhouse had rushed out of Eric's room not long after the Winchester boys had made their exit. Only a few minutes after that, one of Eric's most recent creations found him back in his chair, riding out the effects of Sam Winchester's blood.

The door closed quietly behind her and she took a deep breath of the still air inside the sparsely decorated room. Her fangs descended at the heady scent of sex. "Did I miss out on all of the fun?" She moved to stand in front of her maker.

His head rolled back, body still somewhat slack as he experienced his high, the potent blood coursing through his veins. "Just," he breathed.

She leaned closer, smelling the metallic tang on his breath. It was more enticing than the smell of sex. "We got very lucky. Did they cooperate?" she questioned, dropping into his lap.

"Yes."

She picked up his arm from the arm rest and brought his wrist to her lips, kissing it gently. "May I?"

"Of course."

Her fangs pierced the thin flesh and she drank slowly from the wound. "I always knew there was something different about Sam Winchester. You can never go near them again. They will kill you."

Eric shoved her from his lap. "You do not make the rules here, Jo."

From the floor, Jo laughed, swiping her fingers over her lips to collect any lingering droplets of blood. She licked her fingers clean. "It'll be your funeral. Don't say I didn't warn you." On that, Jo departed, feeling the power of Sam's blood surging through her veins.


End file.
